


He Saw It in a Film Once

by CasWearsHoodies



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Airplane Sex, M/M, Public Sex, TSA Agent!Cas, hunter!dean, kind of, mentions of child abuse, tsa fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-11
Updated: 2014-06-11
Packaged: 2018-02-04 07:46:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1771243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CasWearsHoodies/pseuds/CasWearsHoodies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean, who may or may not have left a knife on his person, is nervous about being caught with contraband by the smoking hot TSA agent, so he demands a private pat down. Thing is, the TSA agent doesn't know the proper procedure to give a private pat down. Except for what he saw in that film once...</p><p>or</p><p>Where Dean needs a pat down and Cas doesn't know what to do so he bases it off a porno.</p>
            </blockquote>





	He Saw It in a Film Once

**Author's Note:**

> This was for my fic giveaway winner [Alex](http://blackchevybaby.tumblr.com), who requested a TSA fic, which was actually kind of hard to write, but still fun!
> 
> This was beta'ed by the amazing [Celia](http://bambiarafangirl.tumblr.com). I'm sure I make grammar mistakes left and right when I get sparks of inspiration at 3 a.m. and decide to type it all out, so thank you so much!

“Dean, stop fidgeting. You look like you have something to hide.” The younger Winchester smuggled a smile behind his hand. As serious a problem as this was, Dean’s brother still felt the need to gloat.

“Well if you happened to forget, I freakin’ do, Sam!” Dean rubbed the back of his belt where he kept a thin steel knife. So thin, in fact, that he may or may not have forgotten to take it off his person before working his way up to TSA check out.

This was stupid. Dean didn’t even want to get on this freaking airplane and have a freaking three hour fight with gravity over some freaking wendigo that he couldn’t freaking drive to because his baby’s engine is covered in freaking sand.

Sam released an exasperated sigh and murmured, “Then stop showing it. You’re gonna get pulled aside for a random search.”

Dean tried to keep his nervous twitching to a minimum as they slowly approached the metal detectors, whistling nonchalantly much to Sam’s annoyance. It wasn’t just that Dean was already a wreck for having to board a plane in the first place; he could’ve done without the whole having weapons on him thing.

And it was as if the gods of ‘Screw you, Dean’ had heard his prayers for help when a voluptuous female TSA agent called him aside.

“Sir, I’m gonna have to ask you step forward,” she stated, no room for discussion in her tone. Dean felt as though she could tell he was hiding something and only called him out to mock him. Dean gave a look that cried ‘Help me’ over his shoulder at his brother, to which he received a bitchface. “Play it cool,” Sam mouthed.

The older man turned back to the impatient agent and proceeded to walk past the taped-off line, feeling eerily similar to a man walking to the gallows.

The woman rambled a list of items to be removed for inspection, ending with, “Remove your shoes and place them in the bin!”

Dean stared at the agent. “Uh,” he gestured to his feet. “Boots?”

“Are you asking me if a boot is a shoe?” she replied incredulously.

The hunter rushed to take off his boots, releasing a nervous chuckle. He hadn’t been this intimidated since he met Missouri Moseley for the first time. And that was saying something.

“Belt too,” the woman said, and Dean mentally cursed her for it. He glanced up from his belt and laughed timidly again.

“Uh, ma’am, I’m sorry. I’d rather not-”

“Fine,” she interrupted. “Opt out! Male assist!”

She left in a haste after she yelled out into the airport, probably ready to be done with Dean. He struggled to ask, “Wh- What’s a male assist…?”

She gestured for him to walk behind her, which he did after a moment of hesitation. He passed her scrutinizing glare, and looked up to see where he was walking to- or rather whom.

A dark-haired, male TSA agent unlatched a dividing rope and motioned for Dean to walk forward, “Sir, right this way, please.”

Holy hell was this guy hot. Like five-alarm chili hot. Dean flashed the male agent an easy smile and sauntered ahead him, stopping to scope out the area before turning around. The agent, whose name tag read ‘Castiel,’ rounded on Dean and ordered him in a commanding voice to, “Place both feet on the yellow footprints.”

Dean did as he was told and stared down at him with a face he hoped looked smug. Just because he was terrified of this agent finding a knife in his pocket didn’t mean he had to show it.

_Fake it till you make it, Winchester._

Plus this guy looked like the ‘no nonsense’ type. Maybe if he’d give this agent some trouble, he’d pin him against a-

_No. Not now, Winchester. You’re one wrong move from being put in a holding cell._

“Okay,” the agent began. “I’m going to give you a pat down. I will let you know where I’m going to touch you before I touch you and I will use the back of my hands for all sensitive areas.” Castiel lifted his hands and flipped them in demonstration.

Sensitive areas? Now that had Dean’s attention. But he had to focus his flirting for another time, one where he wasn’t hiding illegal contraband. The agent reached for him, but Dean stopped him by asking, “The sensitive areas?”

“Underarms, inner thighs, under your waist band,” Castiel referenced each section of the body as he went. “And I will need you to unbuckle your belt, please.”

 _Shit_. Dean had to come up with an idea fast, and the one he thought of wasn’t the best one: Make a scene.

“Whoa,” Dean huffed. “Nobody’s sticking their hands down my pants.”

Castiel forced a grin, “Sir, I’ll have you on your way shortly.”

Dean raised his voice, “I’m not getting felt up by a _dude_ in the middle of an _airport_!”

“Just calm down-”

“Okay?” Dean interrupted. The agent might have thought he was being rude, but Dean didn’t have too many options. And he really hoped this idea wouldn’t put him in a jail cell. He may be dead by the FBI’s records, but he didn’t want to risk being noticed regardless.

“Sir,” Castiel murmured, leaning toward Dean. “This is gonna save a lot of time.”

Dean pursed his lips and crossed his arms, waiting to see what the agent would do. The man, looking a little defeated, rolled his eyes and yelled, “Okay. Private pat down!”

He walked away from Dean with purpose, headed to a door on the side wall. He looked over his shoulder briefly to call, “Follow me.”

Dean cast a glance at Sam as he backed away to the direction the agent went. His brother was there, giving Dean a bitchface, but whether it was at his brother’s behavior or at the TSA agent combing his fingers through his hair, he couldn’t say. Dean shrugged at Sam before following Castiel back to a door marked _Secure Area_ , grabbing his boots along the way.

“Have a seat,” Castiel opened the door for Dean, and once he was safely inside, he shut it.

\------

Castiel sighed as he shut the door before walking away for a moment to regain his composure. He’d never done a private pat down before. And coincidentally, that was the only demonstration he had missed in the training courses. He only learned enough to pass that exam.

Sure, he could do it in _theory_ , but in practice, he knew nothing.

Nothing except for that one video he saw a few weeks ago. The video being an intense nude pat down between a man and a busty TSA agent.

In his defense, there was no way the actions that took place in a pornographic video he watched weren't founded on some sort of truth. He was sure they didn’t just make up what happens. Except for the full nudity part.

Cas was about to give up and call out for his colleague Balthazar, but he noticed that he was already with another flyer. Alright, so Castiel was on his own with this one. He thought back to the video he had watched, hoping that it was accurate. One wrong touch, and Dean could cost him his job.

Castiel let out a calming breath. What was it they did first?

 _Oh yes, set the mood_. Cas hit the lights for the room and opened the door, entering and submerging himself in the darkness. Once he was in, he could see the two dim lights on the wall cast a light glow over the difficult patron - who just had to have a private pat down - sitting in the chair at the center of them room.

\------

Okay, this wasn’t right. Dean was just taking in his surroundings of the room, looking for a place to stash his knife, when all the lights went out. The recording telling him the conditions of the pat down stopped. The room was dead silent.

He sat in the chair, his hunter senses kicking into high gear. He couldn’t feel a change in temperature or anything, but he couldn’t be too sure.

Suddenly, the door he entered through opened, showing him the silhouette of a man. He fidgeted in his seat, trying to discern his face before the door shut and the room was dark once again.

Well it _was_ dark, until the agent hit a switch and two candle lights on the side wall illuminated the room in a dusk glow.

Dean gave Castiel an incredulous look. Sure, he never had a pat down before, but he was pretty sure there was supposed to be a lack of mood lighting.

\------

“Everything okay in here for you?” the agent asked as he pulled an instruction poster off the wall. Castiel may not be well-versed in putting a person at ease, but he was pretty sure a poster about plane safety wasn’t the relaxant the patron needed. He remembered some of the information of a pat down that he read, and he needed the flyer to be at ease. “Not too chilly?”

Castiel watched as the very confused-looking man shook his head.

\------

“Let me guess,” Castiel began. “You are…Bourbon and Coke man?” The agent smiled at Dean as he headed over to the mini-bar that had _just_ been a desk two seconds ago.

 _What?_ Dean was no frequent flyer or anything, but did private pat downs always come with a free drink?

“Sure…” Dean replied. He hadn’t had a stiff drink in a while and he’d need some liquid courage for his flight anyway. But this was all getting too weird. Dean tried to assess the man as he grabbed a glass and filled it with Coke and a generous amount of liquor. _Is… is this guy hitting on me?_

“So,” Castiel began conversationally. “You travelling alone?”

 _Yep. Definitely hitting on me._ Usually Dean would plaster on his most flirtatious smile and reply with something witty like ‘I don’t have to be’, but he was pretty sure he should be discouraging this behavior. The people he usually hit on didn’t dictate whether or not he would be staying in a jail cell for undetermined amount of time. One wrong move and Dean could be spending the night with Homeland Security.

Yeah, he better not risk it.

“Yeah,” Dean looked up at the ceiling as he lied to the agent, trying to hide his eyes. Better not drag Sam down with him if this goes south. Castiel wasn’t even looking, but Dean knew that TSA agents were like, trained in the art of finding liars. Though, Castiel was too busy mixing Dean a drink to notice. If he knew Dean was lying, he didn’t call him on it.

\------

“Where are you headed?” Castiel asked, back turned to him so he couldn’t see the indecision on his face. _How should I approach this?_ This patron was definitely starting to get suspicious of Castiel. But with no knowledge except that video, what else was he supposed to do?

At a loss for what to do, Castiel decided to try and talk to the man, in the calm and collected manner Balthazar did at bars. Maybe not the best idea, but Cas’ people skills were a bit rusty.

“Yosemite,” Dean answered quickly. “Say what does this have to do with secur-”

“Yosemite?” Castiel interrupted before Dean could finish his question. “I haven’t been to Yosemite since I was…” Castiel tried fast to think of a fake scenario. He’d never even heard of Yosemite, but the two people in the video he watched bonded over something they had in common. Maybe the same could work for him. “...I must have been sixteen.”

Dean said nothing, just stared at him quizzically, so Cas began again, “So, uh, is this a work trip?”

\------

“Um, yeah, I guess you could say that,” Dean said before quickly adding. “Though I’m more in it for the local attractions. Pretty outdoor girls all around and plenty of backroads. You do the math, amigo.” Maybe if the agent thought he was straight, he’d stop hitting on him. It was hard for him to do though. This man was easily the hottest guy Dean had ever met. He knew he’d be beating himself up about this later. Or maybe beating himself off.

“I like those numbers,” Cas said and put on a smile that looked forced while handing Dean his drink. He sat down across from Dean and patted his shoulder once before saying, “Whoa. Somebody works out.”

So much for the ‘straight guy’ approach. Dean did puff up a bit in pride, “Well, I do some ranch work. It’s the old school.” Dean was lying through his teeth, but he couldn’t exactly tell basically a security guard that he hunts and wields big weapons 24/7.

“Yeah? I can tell,” Castiel said through a grin. “So ranch, what does that mean? Do you have a big family back home?”

Dean gave a thoughtful smile and leaned back, “No, just a little brother.”

“You two close growing up?” Cas asked genuinely.

“Yeah, you could say that,” Dean muttered. “We kinda had to be. Sometimes it was us versus him.”

Castiel tilted his head curiously and squinted, “What do you mean?”

“My dad,” Dean took a drink. He didn’t know why he was saying any of this. It was true, but he never voiced his opinions about his father. Definitely not his childhood. Maybe knowing he’d never see Cas again helped, so why the hell not. “Bit of a bastard. He drank too much when we were kids.”

Cas retrieved the bottle of Bourbon and poured a healthy dose into Dean’s glass. He chuckled at it as Cas spoke, “That sounds rough.”

“Yeah, he’d have his big night out,” Dean continued as Cas stepped behind him. “With the bottle. He used to come home swinging.” Dean thought back briefly on the nights when John’s hunts didn’t go so well and he needed to take out his aggression. He thought of the nights where he told Sam to go get in the shower and stay there until Dean said it was okay while he took the worst of what Dad had to offer. It never happened often, maybe two or three times a year, but it was enough for them to remember, even if they never talk about it.

Castiel grabbed both of Dean’s shoulders, causing the hunter to jump out of his memories.

“Hey,” Dean inquired. “Are we almost done here?”

\------

Everything was going so well for a moment. The unique flyer in front of him was relaxed, enough so that he told Castiel of his unpleasant childhood. And then Dean came out of his trance, enough to question Castiel again. He had to look in charge.

Castiel tried to think quick. Small talked seemed to work before, so he tried it again, “Y-yeah almost. Can I ask you what cologne that is that you’re wearing?”

The man relaxed under Castiel’s hands. He looked back and said, “Oh that ain’t cologne. No, that’s the AXE Effect.”

“Oh yeah?” Cas asked. “Just going to…” Cas patted down the young man’s arms, feeling for anything out of the ordinary. He must’ve been doing something right, because the patron didn’t even seem to notice.

“A lot of guys really go overboard, but its… very subtle. Its nice,” So Cas didn’t really have to say that to soothe this man anymore, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t mean it. The flyer smelled amazing.

The man nodded, “Thank you.”

\------

Dean was grateful to be out of ‘Let’s talk about my horrible dad’ territory. Sure, Dean had given information willingly, but that didn’t mean it was easy to talk about. But there was something oddly intimate about sharing that information with a stranger. Like now they were bonded with that information. That was really beginning to do something for Dean. And he didn’t know if that should concern him or not. Daddy issues are hardly sexy.

The man began began patting down Dean’s opposite arm. He didn’t have anything hidden there, but the knowledge that he still might have something on him made him nervous again.

Those nerves increased ten fold when Castiel hooked his hands under Dean’s arms to help him stand up.

“So,” the agent began. “That must have been scary for you and your little brother.”

Castiel began sliding his hands down Dean’s back, stopping at his waist before walking to the front of him. So much for getting out of this territory, “Yeah it was. Bruises heal, though. But Sammy…”

“I’m gonna scan your legs now,” Castiel interjected. Then Dean watched dumbstruck as he knelt in front of him, face aligned with Dean’s crotch. He looked up at Dean, “Go on.”

Dean did, “Hell if I was gonna let anything happen to him. I just made sure the old man was worn out by the time he got to him.” It was a little difficult for Dean to talk about this, but the agent was feeling up his legs, heading towards his inner thighs, and that was a pretty great distraction.

“Worn out?” Castiel questioned.

“Yeah…,” Dean repeated a little breathy as Castiel stood up. “Worn out.”

“I’m going to have to get your buttocks here,” Castiel murmured with a blush.

A redness of his own appeared on Dean’s face. “Oh… Um. I took all the punches,” he clarified. “So he was worn out by the time he got to Sammy. You know, I don’t know how many times I went to bed busted up. But, uh, Sammy was safe.” Dean really wanted to veer out of this conversation.

And talking about his baby brother while having his ass groped was definitely a new experience. Castiel thoroughly checked Dean’s back pockets while he was feeling around back there. He was only worried for a millisecond until he realized that the agent wouldn’t be able to feel the knife lining his belt through the thick leather. He’d only notice it if Dean had to unbuckle his belt. And right now, he really wanted to, but not for any cavity search.

Castiel looked truly amazed, “Well, he was safe because of you. So brave…”

\------

Castiel was starting to lose a handle on himself, but he really could care less at this point. This man was a true vision of bravery, and that was really doing something to his libido. He allowed his hands to roam up the flyer’s sides, convincing himself that he was just double checking.

“I’m going to pat down your chest now,” Cas muttered in a gravelly tone.

The patron looked like a man in a trance, but he still had enough sense to nod and mutter an assent, staring right into Cas’ eyes.

Castiel felt down his torso, groping more than looking for anything at this point, brushing his fingers along his nipples to hear his breath hitch. The man started babbling about his brother again, and the loyalty in his words was setting Cas on fire, “He’s doing real good though.”

\------

“Yeah?” the agent inquired, staring back at him, with something in his eyes that Dean couldn’t decipher.

“He’s going to be a lawyer. One day,” Dean technically didn’t lie just then. He hopes Sam will get out of hunting eventually. “He got a full ride to Stanford.”

Cas’ hands traveled lower until they rested on Dean’s belt, hooking his fingers underneath it.

And Dean didn’t even flinch. He could feel the electricity between them, and he didn’t even know what to do next.

Castiel smiled, “You must be so proud.” He slowly unhooked Dean’s belt buckle, pulling it open. In the process, he yanked Dean forward a few inches. He had to steady his hand before he spilled his drink.

Castiel’s eyes were dark as he said, “I’m gonna put two fingers in your waistband… I’ll move real slow.”

Dean groaned inwardly, his eyes hooded. He didn’t even have to give the agent his consent. He was sure his face said it all, “Okay.”

Castiel proceeded to place his fingers inside the front of Dean’s jeans, barely brushing his half-hard erection. Dean gasped, but the sound wasn’t even really audible, just a small sound that forced its way out of him.

The two men stared at each other, slowly inching their faces closer. Dean could feel the other man’s breath on his face. He started to close his eyes, preparing to go the extra few millimeters and seal the deal.

It was then that Castiel yelled into his face, “All clear!”

\------

Castiel came back to his senses. He took the drink from the man’s hands and immediately turned around, flicking his belt as he went. This was his place of work. It wasn’t some bar where he could seduce this man. As much as he truly wanted to continue, he had to stay professional.

The other man, who looked at a loss for words, suddenly came back to himself and grabbed Castiel’s wrist, spinning him around and slamming him against the side wall, his body plastered to the stunned agent’s.

Castiel gasped, “S-sir!”

The grin he received back was feral. The man leaned in and whispered into his ear, “The name’s Dean.” Cas shuddered a bit at their close proximity. “But I won’t mind it too much if you kept calling me sir.”

Cas groaned and rolled his hips forward, “D-Dean…”

The mentioned man smiled and grounded his hips into Cas’, making the agent whimper, “That’s it. Say my name.”

\------

Dean had no idea what he was doing. He could’ve just gotten himself detained for assaulting an agent. Thank god Castiel seemed as on board with this as he was. Dean hooked the agent’s leg around his waist, drawing him in closer.

“So Castiel,” Dean began, his usual arrogance returning as he stroked down Cas’ sides. “Am I allowed to kiss you, or is that against the standard procedure of a pat down?”

Castiel huffed and turned his head so he was facing Dean, “I’m not even exactly sure of the standard procedure of a pat down. I may have missed that course lesson.”

“I sorta figured that out about the same time you started groping me, agent,” Dean inched closer with a playful smile.

Cas reached out and gripped the hair at the nape of Dean’s neck, “Shut up and kiss me.”

Dean rushed his face forward, face colliding with Castiel’s kind of painfully. Quickly though, they gained a steady rhythm, their bodies rolling in tandem with their tongues. Dean could feel Castiel’s erection rubbing along side his through both of their slacks, and he groaned at the knowledge of Castiel being just as turned on as he was.

Cas detached himself from Dean’s face, moving his mouth down along Dean’s jaw to his throat, leaving love bites as he went. Normally Dean would bitch about the marks, but this situation with Cas was anything but normal. He was making out with a TSA agent in a private pat down office. This was straight out of a porno. And plus, if he needed a distraction for the flight, he could always just press the hickeys for some sensory pleasure.

Dean was brought out of his thoughts by a nip at a sensitive part of his collar bone, forcing a loud moan out of him. Castiel shushed him by placing a finger on his mouth, “Keep it down a bit. The other agents could still hear us. I’d rather not Bernadette walk in on this. She’s a bit… intimidating.”

Dean knew immediately which one was Bernadette and hastily agreed, nodding, “No kidding.”

With a new mentally to stay quiet, Dean started rubbing Castiel’s sides, making him squirm. His hands slowly migrated south, getting a sturdy grip on Cas’ upper thighs before hauling his other leg up. The only thing keeping Cas up at this point was Dean’s hips pressing his into the wall.

Dean started thrusting forward, small little jerks off his body, punching moans right out of Castiel. The agent rolled his head back, and Dean took the opportunity to unbutton part of Castiel’s uniform and leave some marks of his own. He was in absolute bliss, their bodies mashing together perfectly.

Well, until something fell out of the back of Dean’s pants.

He froze, the tenseness not going unnoticed by Castiel. He looked behind him to see if he really did have the knife on him.

And then Dean was having a hard time trying not to laugh. The bulge that Dean had felt under his belt and thought was a knife was _only the harness_. The sudden memory of throwing the knife in a rage at the wall of his room at Bobby’s hit him, and it was then that he did guffaw. He didn’t even have to have a private pat down in the first place.

But he definitely wasn’t regretting it at this point.

“What? What is it?” Cas asked, bringing his head forward to look at Dean.

Dean chuckled, “Nothing. Now where we?”

He surged forward, nipping Cas’ bottom lip before licking his way into his mouth.

Castiel, with nimble fingers, reached in between their bodies and unzipped both his and Dean’s jeans, causing them both to groan in relief.

“Wait, Cas,” Dean panted, pausing his ministrations and smiling devilishly. “Can’t have you coming on your work pants. Better come in them instead. You can remember what we did in here all day, and no one else will know.”

Castiel whimpered, but whether it was in protest or agreement, Dean couldn’t tell. He looked up at the man grinding against his hips and yeah, that was definitely consent.

Dean started thrusting again, his erection rubbing against Castiel’s through now just the two thin layers of their undergarments. He hadn’t come like this since he was a teenager, but today was apparently full of surprises. Plus, the way Cas wrapped his arms around Dean’s shoulders and began chanting his name with a huff in his breath at each thrust was bringing him close to orgasm at an embarrassing speed. He could already feel the fire building low in his gut.

Dean leaned his head back a bit to catch Cas’ mouth, coaxing his tongue inside to caress his. For the way they were thrusting, the kiss was incredibly intimate and sweet. This sex was fast and passionate, so much happening all at once that it was sensory overload, and the kiss was on a whole nother level.

Castiel broke away from the kiss, hiding his face in the hunter’s neck, and moaned, “I’m close, Dean.”

Dean, spurred on by this, began grinding against Cas in an upward motion, their cocks aligning perfectly. Within a few more thrusts, Dean could feel Cas’ cock pulsating in his pants, signalling his release. He could feel Cas’ mouth open against his neck, no sounds being uttered.

Castiel finally sighed after his orgasm had passed, and Dean gave him a few moments to overcome his post-orgasm haze.

What Dean hadn’t been expecting was Cas to push off the wall against him, causing Dean to lose his balance and fall on his ass. As painful as it was, he couldn’t complain when he had a lap full of sexy, debauched TSA agent. Just like a porno. Dean was in heaven. Except for his sore ass.

“What the h-” Dean was mid-complaint about the assault when the agent pushed down his shoulders and made the hunter lay flat.

“If I had to come in my pants,” Cas murmured before placing a kiss on Dean’s chin. “Then so do you.”

Castiel leaned back, now properly straddling Dean’s waist, his grin wolfish. All thoughts after that left him as the agent began gyrating his hips, his ass grinding perfectly onto Dean’s cock. He gripped Cas’ hips, but it was more to hold something than to give direction.

Now that Dean was the one being manhandled, he could feel his orgasm coming like a freight train, the sensation in his groin peaking. All it took to bring him over the edge was for Cas to raise his hips entirely off of Dean and fall back down, mimicking what it’d look like if Castiel had taken the hunter to the hilt. Dean could feel the warm cum seeping into his underwear as he panted through his aftershocks.

Once his senses had come back to him, he sat up, Cas still straddling him, and pulled him into a lazy kiss, his arms crushing the dark-haired man against him.

“That was better than the film,” Castiel mumbled, probably to himself, but Dean had still heard it.

“Film?” he questioned as he mouthed at the agent’s ear lobe.

Cas’ face immediately flushed, “W-well I hadn’t seen how to properly give a private pat down, s-so I kind of interpreted it off of this film I had uh… seen once.”

Dean scrutinized the blushing agent. Either he was embarrassed for not knowing how to give a pat down or for some other reason, “What kind of film, Cas?”

“Um, well, it was a bit of an intimate one between this male passenger and a… handsy TSA agent,” Cas answered, looking at anywhere but Dean.

And then it clicked.

“You based how to give a cavity search off of a porno!” Cas stuttered out a laugh, still looking sheepish, “It seems so.”

Dean grinned and kissed Castiel again, “Well, I’d say job well done, agent.”

\------

Dean remained in the room for a few minutes after Castiel. Anyone who could see them together would know what had happened, so they thought it best to leave separate. Cas had been fixing the buttons on his jacket when he glanced over to where Dean was finally exiting the room.

Dean said nothing, just winked at Cas and gave a wolfish grin. The tall man travelling with Dean (Cas could immediately tell Dean was lying about being alone), who he assumed was his brother, looked between them, utterly confused.

Cas looked forward and began walking off to finish his other duties. And if he and Dean happened to swap numbers, well then that was his own personal business.

And so were the cum-stained underwear rubbing uncomfortably against him.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on [my tumblr](http://cashmoneycas.tumblr.com) for more ficlets and insanity and whatnot.


End file.
